Izzy and Emily Ch. 01: Two Redheads

The thump and boom of music filled the darkly lit club. I could feel its pulse thunder in my chest. The sea of dancing bodies writhed and bobbed to the tempo. The crowd, stocked with painted femboys such as myself, crossdressers and those who straddled sexuality as neither boy nor girl but an amalgamation of both, moved as a single mass.

I had joined the den of flashing lights and deafening music as a distraction. Here only because I could think of no other place to be. The club, La Petite Mort, catered to an unconventional crowd. I found no lure from the boys, dancing about with their cocks hanging out, their glowing bracelets leaving afterimages in my vision, assaulted by the strobing attack of lights. It seemed unfair to criticize them. I too had come painted up. My ginger hair was hidden away beneath a raven wig. My already pale skin was powdered, covering up my myriad of freckles. To add to my facade, I had painted my lips with a shimmering black, dark as tar and nearly tasting of it. I Matched this with a black skirt and top with the overall appearance of a darkly painted porcelain doll. I watched the room silently from my perch upon a cracked leather burgundy sofa in the corner.

The noise and lights overwhelmed, senses bombarded until it left me numb. The sound faded back into my subconscious and quietened, only the thump of the bass echoing lingered in my chest. In the shifting of bodies on the dance floor, a figure moved, strangely independent of the movement of the others. In the light of the strobes, the deep green of their clothes stood out boldly against the more monochromatic bodies. My vision fixated on the color as it wove itself in and out of the sea of people. I only seemed to notice my dazed staring at the source of color as it moved towards me, and the spell broke altogether when it stood there a foot away.

I blinked and looked up to stare into emerald eyes, and a head of fiery red hair, brilliant and bol in contrast to the surroundings. She smiled. Her lips moved, but her voice was drowned out by the storm of sound.

I gave her a half smile and shook my head, unable to understand what she was saying. She was beautiful, so bright and cheery and stuck out like a sore thumb. I wondered what she wanted. I had no idea what a girl like this could want or need from someone like me.

Instead of speaking louder she stepped forward into me. Leaning against the arm of the sofa, I had no space to retreat and stood there dumbly. She leaned in, and her full, ample breasts pressed up against my chest, and I felt the weight of them against me. Like velvet, her cheek brushed mine before I felt her lips touch my ear, her words little more than a whisper but I felt them clearly if not heard them.

"You are adorable standing here, but why are you hiding in a corner?", She whispered into my ear.

She shifted, and it drew her breasts across my chest. I froze as the lips once again caressed my ears with the voice of an angel. "You look very kissable. I bet you make lovely noises when kissed."

I stumbled over my words. "I don't know what to say right now. I guess I am not as cool as I hoped to be."

She smiled at me and winked. "Why do you need to be cool?"

I shook my head. "Honestly, I didn't think far ahead. I was planning on hiding in the corner."

"Or my couch," she said.

"Oh ...is this your couch?", I asked ready to get up.

She shook her head. "No, I mean when you come home with me later."

I stared at her a moment and then felt my cheeks grow hot. "I... I just got that. It took me a moment."

That earned me a smile.

"I am Izzy," she said.

"Emily," I said using the feminine name I had come up with for clubbing.

She stood and extended a hand, which I took, and was pulled up from the couch and around the dance floor towards the door. One of the dancers bumped into me spilling beer down my front.

"Sorry," he slurred and turned back to his companion.

I looked at the pair of them, and a part of me doubted that they were much older than the minimum to be in the club, let alone drinking. I sighed and tried to wipe off the beer with my hands.

I felt Izzy's arm around my middle, and she guided me through the back bar area to the exit where we stepped out into the fresh evening air.

"Come on princess," she said grabbing the door of a waiting taxi. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

***

I sat there on her green leather couch, worried I would get it dirty from my beer bath earlier but she insisted and sat down beside me.

Her fingers stroked the black leather collar at my throat, "Who's is this?" Her words crawled along my skin like velvet.

I could only whisper my words back, "For you, tonight, if you like."

"I don't have much need for a collar. I'm more of a mommy than traditional dominant."

I was not unfamiliar with the type. La Petite Mort often had Mommies and Daddies and others hunting their numbers, seducing would be willing partners. I used to wonder how one finds themselves in such situations, and now I knew.

I knew the drill. I turned around on the couch on my hands and knees. The position pulled the back of the black skirt up exposing the curvature of my rear. Even as I braced my chest against the arm of the green sofa, I felt a ping of guilt. I felt like a whore, waiting for Izzy to take me, taken home like this for a one-night stand. I still wanted it though. I had a need, an itch I could not satisfy myself, an itch that had been waiting too long to be scratched.

I felt her hand trace the back of my thigh. "Don't you want to get out of all that makeup and mess? It is not good for your skin. Why not shower and get comfortable?"

I froze a moment. Sex was one thing, but the idea of showering in someone else's home made me feel vulnerable. Though the night was still young, I doubted I would be heading back to the club. I felt her hand slide up between my legs and rub against my bulge. The heat of her hand easily penetrated the lace of my panties. She cupped me, gently massaging. I swallowed a silent moan.

She withdrew and patted my exposed rear softly. "Come on little princess," she said taking me by the hand and leading through a hallway and to a door. She opened it and flicked on the light. The bathroom beyond was spacious and well decorated. She opened a cabinet and produced a towel and gave it to me.

"Let me know if you need anything. I will find you something to wear that doesn' smell like smoke and beer."

I thanked her and closed the door. I stripped down and left my clothes neatly folded and stacked on the counter. The hot shower felt admittedly good, and it took a few minutes of scrubbing with a washcloth to rid me of my makeup. I had removed the wig but left my wavy ginger hair pinned up to keep it from getting wet. I didn't want to walk around with damp hair all night, and you don't blow dry curly hair, or it gets poofy and frizzy.

I dried myself and stood to stare in the mirror. I released the defiant red wavey curls from their bobby pin imprisonment and teased them out with my fingers until they hung once more around my face and shoulders. I usually kept my hair back in a ponytail, but I had not thought to bring a hair tie with me and let them fall as they would.

I hung the towel to dry. I would have like to keep it wrapped around me but was unsure where I would put it. The house immaculately maintained, made me feel dirty and out of place, and I felt oddly compelled to keep it the way I had found it. There was an oversized shirt on the counter, but it seemed a waste if she and I were about to have sex, so I left it there.

I crept my way down the hall naked and stole a deep breath before turning the corner into the living room. I felt more than naked without my makeup on. I supposed I wore it as a mask in a way. Now, however, I had nothing to shield myself as I walked across the room to Izzy who had been lounging in a leather armchair. She watched me closely as I approached. I stood before her, my hands clasped low over my hips. I felt suddenly shy under her brilliant green eyes. They flashed up to meet my own, and I could not hold their gaze. I found myself staring at the carpet before me.

Izzy looked me over from head to toe and smiled warmly. "You are beautiful. Do you know that?"

I felt my cheeks flare pink and hot. I was never good at taking compliments. Deep down inside I never really believed any of them. I had always assumed it was a ploy to get something, in this case, sex. Izzy stood and unzipped the side of her green leather dress and let it fall to the floor. She had worn nothing beneath it and now wore only her matching green heels and a mottled green silk scarf.

While I was indeed ginger, her hair was darker, like fire. Her eyes contrasted with her hair magnificently and I secretly wished I have been born with green eyes instead of blue. She was also taller than I was, and the cock between her legs was, even soft, thicker, than any I have seen.

Izzy held her arms out to me. "Come here princess and let me find out what you sound like when kissed."

I placed my hands in hers, and she pulled me gently to her lap straddling her thighs, knees on each side of her hips. She slid one arm around the small of my back and held me to her body. Her other hand cupped my face and drew me to her lips in a deep kiss. She kissed me until I became dizzy and again until I nearly panted for breath. She was not greedy, trying to shove her tongue down my throat, but sweetly diligent.

"You do make beautiful sounds, but I bet you could make more," She said and leaned down to kiss my nipple. It tickled slightly. My nipples were sensitive, and I almost pulled away reactively until she pulled it into her mouth. She brought my nipple and most of my mostly non-existent breast into her mouth and suckled me in a way I had never before experienced.

I gasped out loud, startling myself with a deep moan. Caught off guard, I became self-conscious of my hands and draped them around Izzy's shoulders. My cock hardened against her stomach, and I moaned again into her hair. With my arousal pressed against Izzy's stomach, there was little doubt between us that I liked it a lot.

"That's my princess," she whispered against my breast, kissing and licking softly. "Don't hold back. I love the way you sound for me."

I felt her shift and then heard the application of lubricant beneath me. A moment later I could feel her, pressing against the back of my hip. It felt warm and heavy and big enough to make me wonder if she was out of my league. I am one of the rare few that do not pride themselves at being split in two. I have taken a cock before, not many, but enough to know that size does indeed matter. Bigger is not always better, and I began to worry that I was not up to the task.

I had to scoot back to position myself for the right angle. I had to place my hands back and on the end of the arms of the chair for support which caused me to arch my back to get into position. I felt the greased tip of her cock brush my opening. Izzy just watched me and let me take my time. My cock just hung out there in the open space between us and made me all the more self-conscious about myself.

"You are so cute when you get embarrassed, did you know that?"

"I must be pretty damn cute right now," I countered.

Izzy reached out and wrapped her fingers lightly around my cock, her thumb rubbing the head with her thumb. The warmth of her hands hardened my arousal even further. Suddenly an expression overcame her features as if she had just had an idea. She opened the small shallow door at the front of a small side table adjacent to the chair. From its depths, she retrieved what appears to be one of the black elastic "no damage" hair bands. I must have had and lost a hundred of them myself. This one, however, jingled as Izzy closed the drawer again.

She held it up in front of me to display the hair band. It was little more than a plain black hair band although this one had a small bell attached to it. With deft fingers, she double looped the band around the head of my cock. It was tight enough not to fall off, and I could feel its presence there at the tip of me, but not affixed so tightly that it hurt. The sensation of it made my cock jerk ever so slightly, causing the bell lightly ring out. I could feel my face burn with a fierce blush.

I lowered myself over her girth. It had taken me several minutes and effort to relax my lower body to be able to take her in. The width of her cock stretched me, and if it were any more substantial, I would not have been able to accommodate it all. I was left feeling exceptionally full, and when she quivered inside me, I was unable to stifle my moan.

She wrapped her arms around me and held me close, pulling my smaller frame down firmly against her lap. She kissed along my neck and shoulders as her hands roamed my body, exploring every inch. Now and again she would pinch lightly or run her nails teasingly over my skin to watch my reaction. She took her time, I determined, to learn how my body reacted and to what. In a way, I supposed, I was studied and my reactions logged away somewhere in her mind.

The sensation of vulnerability was overwhelming. I felt like an open book, and when I would look away in a moment of shyness, Izzy would place her hand under my chin or against my cheek and redirect my eyes towards her. When I would hold her gaze, she would reward me with a deep passionate kiss. She was right, she was not outright dominating me in a way that I was used to, but she was gently training me, and my body, for her preferences.''

I felt her hips flex, first downwards and then up against me in a few exploratory thrusts. I shook my head no when she asked if anything hurt, and she deepened the pace. The effort made the small bell jingle teasingly.

Izzy had taken me by surprise. She was genuine in her praise when I opened up to her with a moan or shiver of my body. She spoke sweetly and never once cursed or used crude language. While I felt exposed and vulnerable under her always watchful gaze, I never once felt as though I was a cheap thrill to her. She had a way of touching me, positioning my body and speaking to me that seemed to bring out all of my feminine tendencies and feelings, and the more she called me princess, the more I felt like one.

She shifted, sitting forwards in the chair. This position caused me to lean back on her lap. She wrapped her arms around me, one around the small of my back and the other hand cradling the back of my head as she kissed me deeply. I had no real purchase of balance in this position and found myself held in place there in her arms as she gently and ever so patiently took me.

"Still ok my sweet girl?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"You can call me Mommy if you like," she said softly. "I won't tell anyone."

She had been so gentle, and so loving if you can consider it such a thing between near strangers, and when I looked into her bright emerald eyes, I felt moved by her. I swallowed. It was not something I would typically do, not the sort of relationship I entertained in my thoughts or would have looked for, but for the first time, I thought about it. What would it hurt? Nothing and no doubt it would make Izzy happy to hear it.

"Yes... Mommy. I like it," I said. My words came out softer than I meant it to be but they came out. The smile she rewarded me with filled me with warmth.

Izzy continued her deep stroke and reached up and removed the silk scarf from around her throat. She wadded it up in her hand and began to rub it lightly against my testicles. The slick material felt cool against my skin and rose goosebumps along my body. Teasingly she ran the silk up along my cock and began to stroke me. Her grip firm, I quickly found myself panting and being pulled closer and closer to an orgasm.

"I want to watch your face as you cum for me princess," she said.

I felt my body tighten around her, her steady thrusts never faltering. I know my face was turning red because I could feel the heat spread across my face. I usually chose a face-down position that did not allow my partner to see me as I climaxed. In this position, however, Izzy had a front row seat to everything.

"I want my sweet girl to look at me as she comes. Will you do that for Mommy? Will you cum for me?"

I bit my lip and nodded.

Izzy began to stroke faster, making the bell tinkle excitedly. My fingers dug into her legs as a loud moan spilled out just before the orgasm struck me. She closed her hand like a steel vice around my cock preventing the ejaculation and causing the orgasm to rage without release. I whimpered trying to thrust my hips into her hands and find that final relief.

"Look at me, princess," she said voice like velvet. "Let me watch your eyes. Do you want to cum just for me? Ask Mommy nicely, and she will let you."

I was in sweet agony and writhed helplessly on her cock which had begun to take me vigorously.

"Please Mommy! Please let me cum for you! Just you Mommy! Just you! Please, Mommy!"

I repeated the please over and over and begged her with my eyes. She gave me a few more hard milking strokes to my cock and released her grip throwing open the floodgates of my orgasm. She cupped the silk around the head of my cock catching my deliverance neatly. My body tightened, my muscles squeezing around her cock. Only then did I feel Izzy's surge of cum spurt deep inside me. There was so much, and I could feel it fill me with heat.

She gently wiped the tip of my cock with the scarf causing my sensitive member to twitch and jerk, each time drawing a gasp from my lips. All the while the tiny bell announced my movements.

She pulled me up against her chest, her cock still buried inside me as we cuddled and kissed. I was happy and satisfied as she drew me in for one deep passionate kiss after another, her hands stroking my hair and along my back.

At least an hour passed before we moved, and I felt oddly empty when she slipped out of me. It had grown late and now calm and emptied I relented to her gentle coaxing to spend the night. After a quick clean up in the bathroom, I found myself nodding off in Izzy's arms. Her soft, warm breasts pressed against my cheek, and I snuggled against them as I fell asleep.

***

I awoke to a note on Izzy's pillow. It was an apology note, that she had been called into the office to deal with some emergency and did not wish to wake me. I read through the letter.

"Poptarts on the counter."

"Stay as long as you like."

"Keep the bell on."

"Be home when I can."

"Love, Mommy"

I sighed and pulled myself from the warmth of the bed. The house seemed too quiet, and I did not feel comfortable being in her house without her there. I silently dressed and gathered my things. To me, this felt a bit of a walk of shame to leave for home the next morning smelling like beer and sex. I was disgusted with myself to a degree as I looked into the large mirror in the hall. I frowned and locking the door, shut it behind me on the way to the car.

***

In the days following, I found myself in turmoil. I was trying to reconcile the aspects of who I was. Boy. Girl. Femboy. Princess. Her Girl. I felt I was starting to lose my identity. My sense of arousal also seemed to be out of sorts. My drive and need seemed much higher than usual. For whatever reason, I didn't go back to the club. I didn't want to go back to the "do it and done" style of sex now that I have had something more fulfilling.

In my private times before bed, my mind drifted to her as I tried to tend to the ache between my legs. I could see her, in my mind, looking at me, but It wasn't enough. I lay on my belly pressing my hips into my awaiting hand, and then on my back, legs up in the air only to groan in frustration. I reached up and pinched and pulled my nipple trying to imagine her fingers and mouth on it. Dammit, why could I not get myself off?